


Something's Wrong With My House

by A_Shippers_Life



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Also died sooner, Castiel as just been alive longer, Dead Dean Winchester, Dean has been on the planet longer, Dean was born sooner, Happy, Happy Ending, He loved Dean, He was a good father, House Hunting, Human Castiel, John Winchester Mentioned - Freeform, Kinda, NO THOUGHT OF IT, No Sex, None - Freeform, Older Castiel, civilians know what to do just aren't that great at it, confused, me too, only Hunters are masters at dealing with them, supernatural monsters are common knowledge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Shippers_Life/pseuds/A_Shippers_Life
Summary: Exerp:Castiel wasn’t sure how much more of this torment he could handle. Every day it was something new and he felt like he was about to snap. Looking back on it now, he couldn’t believe he had been such a fool.





	Something's Wrong With My House

**Author's Note:**

> Any mistakes are my own. I got the idea for this off of a prompt list I forgot I had.

PART 1: HOME, TERRIBLE HOME.

Castiel wasn’t sure how much more of this torment he could handle. Every day it was something new and he felt like he was about to snap. Looking back on it now, he couldn’t believe he had been such a fool.

 

~ 3 months ago ~

 

Castiel was just about ready to give up house hunting for the day when he received a text from his realtor. It was exactly what he was looking for, a quaint two-story house with a small ring of trees giving him privacy from the neighbors, with a decent sized yard that was large enough for him to have his garden and not feel cramped. Sure, it could use a new layer of paint, but Castiel was willing to put in the work for his dream home.

Sending back a quick reply to let her know that he was interested in it. He shut down his computer with a sigh, knowing that with another house to go look at, one that actually had everything he wanted, the day hadn’t been entirely wasted.

________________________

It took a few days to get everything arranged with the current owner but when the time came to look at the house, Castiel could already tell this is the one he wanted. None of the previous ones could even hold a candle to it. He couldn’t understand why the current owner was even looking to sell the place, or why any of the previous owners had sold. After doing a little digging the day after his realtor had texted him, Castiel had found that this one house had been sold four times in just the last year alone. But at the moment, as they walked through a dining room that had an exquisite colored glass art piece, Castiel couldn’t find the will to care.

Though it took only about a month of living in the place to understand what had brought the previous owners to sell. The first two weeks were fine, nothing unusual, he spent his time moving his stuff in and fixing up anything and everything that needed a little TLC. It was during the third-week things started going wrong. His steaming coffee would suddenly be a giant ice cube, his couch would be turned to an angle that made watching TV awkward and uncomfortable, he could leave the room watching one of his documentaries and come back to some stupid hospital drama playing. That was just the simple stuff. The fourth week found him waking up on his mattress in his backyard, finding all his shoes with no laces, or his teaching notes with just a page or two in the completely wrong spot. It was almost enough to make him believe that his house was haunted. Almost.

Everyone knew that ghosts would sooner kill you than admit they’re a ghost. No one who owned a possessed house ever made it out to tell the tale. No one, except the lucky few who got saved by the Hunters. So, just the fact that everyone who has owned this house is still living should mean that he is alone when he’s home. That simple fact, though, couldn’t drag Castiel’s mind away from the fact that there was _something_ in his house.

But he couldn’t call the Hunters since the spirit it wasn’t actually killing anybody, instead, it was just seriously annoying Castiel. No, this would have to be something he dealt with on his own.

So, he researched. He was not letting some stubborn dead-guy kick him out of his own house.

__________________

The second month passed with even more annoyance than the first. His entire closet was moved to other parts of the house, he had found his trench coat underneath the sink the downstairs bathroom. All of his batteries had been taken out and laid neatly in his backyard. And to top it all off everything he tried to cook had come out burnt to some degree.

It was around the end of the second month that he found something that might be useful. A simple looking spell to help him see and hear any members of the undead that might be within his walls.

Castiel quickly gathered up the necessary ingredients, not knowing how much longer he could take this torment. Some thyme, basil, mint, and quite a few other things he had a tough time obtaining. And by the time he was ready to cast the spell, the three months anniversary of his move-in had just passed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PART 2: A NEW ROOMMATE?

Castiel waited until he was sure no one else in his neighborhood was awake before setting up his spell. He had his laptop off to the side with the spell all pulled up, so he could follow it step-by-step, and not accidentally cause his house to explode. It was well after one before he was even ready to start reading the spell.

_“Antiqua munia invocabo_

_dare animam hanc horam:_

_an possit mens intelligit_

_quibus amissis animos oculosque patentis_

_aures quæ possunt audire, et exaudiam eos._

_Peto a te nocte hac simplice_

_audi orationem servi tui et dignum me putes."_

 

After finishing the spell Castiel sat still for a few minutes before he could sense the change. Slowly and all at once sounds got louder and Castiel could understand where every single individual one was coming from, it was a complete overload on his system and found himself soon passing out.

___________________

When Castiel woke up, he found himself on his bed and unwilling to open his eyes remembering what his ears had gone through last night. Castiel lay there just listening to the world continue on its way out side his window, when he started picking up on something else. Footsteps, walking back and forth at the bottom of his bed as if someone were pacing there. He didn’t know who it could be but the noise, with his newly sensitive ears, was giving him a headache, and he told the walker has much.

“I don’t know who you are, or how you got into my house, but would you stop with that goddamn pacing! You’re giving me a headache.” And just like that, the sound stopped. And was also immediately followed by what Castiel would forever think was the loudest voice he had ever heard.

“Wait! You can hear me? Is that what you were doin’ last night? I’m a bit rusty on my Latin so I couldn’t understand everything you were sayin’. But right as I was about to leave, fell over and with me bein’ a ghost… well, it’s incredibly hard to pick up real things like you, or your bed. But I knew that I could never live with myself if I left you like that. And my mom always-“

“Are you ever quiet? My ears are extremely sensitive right now and I would greatly appreciate it if you could do that as well as telling me who you are and what you’re doing in my house.” Castiel interrupted, still not opening his eyes and keeping his voice at a whisper.

“My name’s Dean and this is _my_ house, I found it, I fixed it up, and _I_ lived in it until that asshole killed me. And now I’m stuck watching douches move in and ruin all the work I put into the place.”

“So, wait,” Castiel started, finding the strength to sit up and open his eyes. “You’re the one that’s been messing with my stuff! But I thought ghost killed the people who moved into their homes. You haven’t killed a single owner.” He was so confused. The figure sitting on the end of his bed was slightly see through, solidifying the fact that the man was in fact a ghost. But caused Castiel to stare for quite a long time, he had never seen or heard of a ghost so, so…

“Yeah, that was me… I only did it so you would leave though.” Castiel could have sworn he saw the ghost’s cheeks redden up. “I mean I’m sorry and everything, but I didn’t want to kill you so chasein’ you out was the next best thing. I never enjoyed killin’ things even though my dad wanted me to.”

“Dean…” Castiel spoken gently, “may I ask something?”

“Sure…” Dean let the word drag on, making Castiel realize he hadn’t given his name yet.

“Apologies, I’m Castiel. I was wondering, when did you die? You just look kind of young.”

“The year of our lord 1827, I’m- I was fifteen when I was killed. My dad always told me to watch out and be careful. ‘You’re a Winchester’ he’d say, ‘nobody and nothin’ can take down a Winchester.’ Turns out he was wrong.”

“You’re a Winchester!? Dean, the Winchester family were the ones who created the Hunters organization after their eldest son went missing and was later found dead!”

“I know, Cas” Dean just let out a sigh, “they were hunters before I went missing too…” A realization hit Castiel, right then, as this new knowledge sunk in. Dean knew what happened to ghosts, he knew what Castiel had to do. Dean turned to look Castiel in the eyes, “I can show you were they are if you want, my bones.”

Castiel felt the waves of sadness just rolling off the boy beside him. After having no one to talk to for almost two hundred years, his first decent conversation and he’s going to be gone before the next.

“How about this, you can stay here in this house with me until you feel ready to go on.”

“Really!?”

“Yes, you can stay… So long as you stop moving things around, alright?”

“Yep, thanks, Cas!”

 

~ 2 days later ~

 

“DEAN!!” Cas’ voice rang through the house as he had come home to find all his furniture on the ceiling.

**Author's Note:**

> I used google translate for my Latin, as I a not fluent in it. Sorry.  
> What is hopefully says in English:
> 
> “I call upon the ancient powers  
> To give my soul, on this hour:  
> An able mind which understands  
> Open eyes which see lost souls  
> And listening ears which can hear their cries.  
> I ask of you this simple night  
> To hear my prayer and deem me worthy.”
> 
>  
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed this. Please feel free to leave a comment


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